“Of course I know, you deserve it, and I don’t give a fuck; you threatened my family, you tried to rob us, you had no intention of letting us live, so now you can explain to Albie Crane how it was all a big mistake; I doubt he’ll listen, though; he doesn’t like defaulters, and he doesn’t like people who fuck with him, and you really shouldn’t have disrespected his family, you know how he can get. You better run fast and far, because he’s on his way over. See ya, ‘dad’.”
James staggered to his feet, and ran out into the alley on rubber legs, where a large 1968 Bentley T1 waited, a jowly woman with a bulldog expression and brassy blonde hair sat behind the wheel. James jumped into the car, which sped off with a roar and a screech of tyres.
Ollie grinned at Carol and Izzy, both of them rumpled, bruised and ragged, but not too badly off for wear, considering they’d been abducted, clobbered, and manhandled by Tommy and his pet maggots. At the thought of Tommy, Ollie grinned, and picked up a discarded traffic-cone.
“Wait for me here,” he grinned at the girls, “I want to have a quick word with Tommy and give him a special birthday present, be back in a second…”
With that, he strolled back into the garage, from whence a minute later came a blood-curdling screech. Ollie strolled back out, dusting his hands and grinning.
“Ollie, what did you do, and what was that scream…?” murmured Carol, and Ollie laughed happily.
“Oh nothing, that was Just Tommy getting acquainted with his new butt-plug; he shouldn’t have any problem fitting any more cocktail shakers up there once he gets that out, but it might take a while, it’s shoved in there pretty deep…”
Epilogue:
Ollie stretched under the sun canopy, and pulled Carol a little closer into the shade and away from the blazing Mediterranean sun. She stirred at the movement and smiled at him, stretching languidly in the heat, her body in a minuscule bikini displayed to maximum effect for him.
“Where’s Izzy taken Katie?” she murmured, grinning at the sight of Ollie’s penis twitching at her nearness.
“She took the baby to the kiddie beach for a paddle and ice cream, and don’t worry, she covered her in sun-block and she’s got a parasol with her, she’s fine; let Izzy have some alone-time with her, she adores her, you know she won’t let anything harm her.”
“So we’re alone, then?” purred Carol, untying the knots n her bikini and smiling at Ollie’s lewd grin as she slid the tiny pieces of material off.
“Sure are, hot-stuff, they’ll be gone for another hour, plenty of time for what I’ve got in mind…”
“What’s that, then?” grinned Carol, as if she didn’t know.
Ollie eyed her speculatively, a grin playing around his lips.
“I was down at the supermarket earlier, seeing if they had any Mint Thins, and I bumped into a guy from England, name of ‘Evan’ also looking for Mint Thins, so we kind of rolled eyes, said “see ya round” and left, but I looked back for some reason, and he was getting into a car with two girls, real lookers, too, long red hair, and I heard him call one girl “Sylvie”, they were both kissing him, and they had a bunch of kids with them, also redheads, but here’s the thing; they all looked like each other; both girls looked like twins, and they both looked just like him. He looked back, saw me, kind of winked at me, and drove off.”
Carol looked at him quizzically, obviously wondering why he was telling her this instead of making things happen for her.
“And your point is…?” she finally smiled.
Ollie grinned back at her.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think we’re alone, you know, doing what we’re doing; perhaps next time I see this Evan guy, and it’s very possible, this is a small place, I could take him to one side and find out? I know what we’re doing, and I have no problem with it, and he sure didn’t look like he had a problem either, it could be…” he trailed off.
Carol grinned happily.
“Maybe you should; it would be nice to know there’s other people in the same boat as us, maybe we could even be friends. But that’s for later; right now…”
She sat up and stretched, smiling at how Ollie’s eyes tracked her spectacular breasts, watching his cock rapidly inflating even as her hand snaked out to fondle him, and, as always, she marvelled at how hard, how thick, how velvety smooth he was. Ollie obviously enjoyed what she was doing, if the way his cock twitched at her touch was anything to go by. Carol slid down next to him and Ollie pulled her on top of him, kissing her even as his hands squeezed and fondled her taut buttocks, pulling them apart to brush her anus with his fingertip, making Carol gasp and grind against him.
Carol raised up, and Ollie slid into her in one long, slow, agonisingly good thrust, filling her as he buried himself to the hilt in her warm pussy.
“Oh God, Ollie, every time you do that it feels like the first time!” she gasped, moving against him as he thrust into her, working her internal muscles to squeeze his length.
“Harder, baby, give me all of it, oh God, yesss!” she muttered, humping frenziedly even as he shoved himself into her as hard as he could, stretching her around himself and driving her crazy.
“Fill me, Ollie, fill me up, fuck another baby into me, give me your spunk, fuck me, fuck me!” she muttered, a constant litany of lust as they fucked furiously. Ollie could feel his climax approaching, Carol’s words striking something deep inside him, and now he wanted to mate her, to fill her with another baby, to keep fucking her until she caught, then fuck her some more, and keep doing it as long as breath remained in his body.
Carol picked up on his feelings, the thought of Ollie pounding another baby into her fired something deep inside her, and, at the thought, orgasm blazed through her like sheet lightning, dimming her eyesight and rattling her teeth with its intensity.
“OOOOhhhh Fuuuccckkk!!” screeched Carol, her pussy tightening around Ollie’s surging cock, making him roar as he swelled inside her, and shot bolt after bolt of hot spunk deep into the heart of her.
Ollie and carol slumped down on the lounger, completely wrung-out by their titanic climaxes, Ollie’s hands absently running up and down carol’s silky flanks and gently squeezing her world-class bottom while Carol grazed on his neck, feeling his pounding heart drumming in counterpoint to her own. Ollie finally roused from his rapt fondling of her to kiss the top of her head, making her look up at him.
“Did you mean that, Carol, is that what you want? Another baby, are you sure?”
Carol smiled and kissed his chest.
“What I want is for Izzy to have a baby with me, both of us together, like that family you saw; are you down for that, baby-boy?”
“Of course he is!” said Izzy, smiling down at them, a sleeping child in her arms. “It’s not like we can’t afford it, you know, and I want a sweet little baby like Katie for my own, how about it Ollie? The three of us here, in this beautiful place, in our own compound, all the money we could ever want, all it needs is a bunch of kids to make it perfect. Tonight, Olliekins, you get to do things the Izzy Bartlett way; get fortified, boy, I’m gonna suck you dry!”
Postscript:
James, or rather, Giacomo, as was now known, leaned on his mop, and wiped sweat from his streaming face, as he contemplated his future, or lack of one; as a toilet cleaner in a dusty little fly-blown trattoria somewhere inland from the Adriatic coast, in the arse-end of Italy, his options were limited. With no money, no prospects, and saddled with Lorraine (or ‘Lucia’ now…) and her constant misery and bitching about what he should have done, what he missed out on, what he did wrong, blah, blah, blah, he was quite ready to ram his mop handle up her ass and peg her out like a scarecrow before doing a runner for parts unknown.
Of course, England was a no-no, and always would be; with the Crane brothers and their cronies on the look-out for him and chubby Lorraine (although neither chubby nor bottle-blonde anymore, serious lack of money made sure of that), the only safe place was right here, in the middle of nowhere, being no-one, with a nothing job, for pittance money, working for a horrible woman with an impressive moustache and fascinating collection of moles, warts, and hairy lumps peppering her face, and a voice like a cat taking a shit through a sewn-up asshole.
Off in the distance came the croaking voice of his employer, so, with a resigned sigh and a fleeting, wistful thought of how close he’d come to real money, he put away his handkerchief and picked up his mop, and resumed swabbing the urine-stained floor.